Voldemort Forever
by Rebecca McDove
Summary: This is an article written in Harry's POV. It sounds more like a narrative, but who cares. Read it anyway. This partially explains why Voldemort didn't die the four (and counting) times Harry met him.


I walk into my three-year-old daughter, Rose's, room, bend down, and kiss the forehead of the sleeping girl. I walk down the hall, slip into my wife's and my room, and sit next to the sleeping body of my beautiful wife, Hermione. Her auburn hair was scattered on the pillow, her brown eyes were moving rapidly under the soft lids, and her chest was slowly moving up and down.  
  
Perhaps now would be the perfect time to give my speech to her. I say, "Hermione, remember when I said that one day, I would have to finally defeat the Dark Lord. Well, today is the day. He has gone way too far. After he…" I stop to wipe a tear that was rolling down my freshly shaven face. "After he killed Ron, I knew that this was enough, and somebody had to take action. That somebody is me.  
  
"Well, all you have to do now is to wish me luck, and to have sweet dreams," I finish. I bend down, and gently and quickly kiss her lips, for it might be the last time. I stay sitting on the bed for about a minute, staring at her beautiful face. "Take care of Rose," I say, "and yourself."  
  
I rise, stride noiselessly out of the bedroom door, and into the bathroom door. I turn the "C" faucet and splash water on my face. I stare at a person I barely recognized, who happens to be in the mirror. The person has green eyes and jet black hair, just like mine, but the eyes are bagged, as if the person staring back hasn't slept for days, and the hair was long and untidy.  
  
Surely this wasn't me. I lift my right hand and prod my eyelids. The reflection lifts his left hand and prods his eyelids. "Maybe this is me," I whisper. My reflection whispers the same words, at the same time.  
  
I splash my face once more with cold water, and walk out. I check once more on Rose and Hermione, and I walk out of the main entrance of my home. Firebolt 3000 in hand, I stare in the midnight sky for a sign of a plane. Getting no sign, I put the broomstick between my legs and soar up towards the moon.  
  
Brisk summer night air was striking my face, and the moon makes my pink cheeks gleam. My legs dangle on the sides of my broomstick, while my hands clench the top of the stick. Owls, some holding letters, some free- handed, soar under my feet. Stars wink at me from the skies above. This is heaven.  
  
I ride for about one hour, knowing that the ride by sky takes six. I felt lucky to have a broomstick because the ride by Knight Bus takes double the time. I have to ride all the way from southern Wales to Northern Ireland to meet Lord Voldemort. It will not be easy, but this will be for Ron Weasley, whom Voldemort killed last month, Cedric Diggory, whom he killed seven years ago, and, most of all, my parents, Lily and James Potter, whom he killed twenty years ago, when I was only one.  
  
After about five hours of flying and thinking about my parents, I start to get tired. I repeat to myself, "I will not sleep. This is for all of Voldemort's victims." I keep my eyes wide and allow the brisk air to keep me awake.  
  
I see the sun start to peek over the horizon, and I know it was about half after four. "Only half of an hour to go," I say to myself. "I'll be in the graveyard in only half of an hour."  
  
Voldemort had kept the graveyard his home for seven years. Only about three years ago, Wormtail came to my home to kill my family and me on Voldemort's orders. Forgetting that I've completed Hogwarts, and knew almost all incantations, Wormtail used baby spells on me. I froze him and brought him in to the Ministry of Magic. I told them the story and they cleared Sirius Black's name when I did that. They performed the Dementor's Kiss on Wormtail.  
  
Now, all Voldemort has as a follower is Draco Malfoy. He killed all of the others. Malfoy hadn't come to try and kill me yet. He's probably scared of me.  
  
As it comes to the point where the sun is almost fully peering over the horizon, I see Voldemort's graveyard from far below. Two tiny figures, looking like ants from up here, walk about the place, undoubtedly planning on who they should use the Killing curse on next. One of the figures looks like a snake with red, glaring eyes and chalk white skin. The other one has platinum blond hair and piercing grey eyes.  
  
I start to plunge from the air. Hopefully, I can make a sneak attack. About twenty seconds later, I make my touchdown thirty feet behind them and I hide behind a tombstone, the tombstone of Ron Weasley. I forcefully wipe the tears from my face. I bide in the shadows for a moment and after a minute, muster all of my courage and step out. I grip tightly on my wand while walking noiselessly behind Voldemort's and Draco Malfoy's backs. "Expelliarmus!" I shout and the wands fly out of their hands and into mine. They swivel around and I see shock on their faces as I snap both of their wands in four pieces.  
  
Voldemort and Draco raise their hands as in surrender, but I still keep a tight grip on my wand. Voldemort walks slowly towards me and I feel a slight pressure on my scar. "Freeze!" I shout. Voldemort steps back. "Don't make another move towards me."  
  
"So, Harry," Voldemort says with the rasping voice of his, "I see you've finally come to kill me. I've seen this for a long time, as I'm psychic."  
  
Don't listen to him, I think.  
  
Voldemort finishes, "Go on! Kill me and get it over with!"  
  
I take a deep breath, and raise my wand. I was about to perform the Killing curse (Avada Kedavra) on both Voldemort and Draco Malfoy when I hear a sound. The sound seems to be coming from the sky. Oh, how soothing! Like a…a phoenix. Fawkes?!  
  
The reddish golden phoenix was soaring in the sky. I remember Fawkes all the way back to my second year in Hogwarts. The magical bird dives from the sky and lands on my shoulder. Voldemort scowls.  
  
"Stupid bird," Voldemort says, "go away!"  
  
"Smart bird," I say to Fawkes while petting his plumage.  
  
Voldemort shapes his hand into a curve and starts slowly contracting it. I feel myself choking. It seems like Voldemort has an invisible voodoo doll of me and he's squeezing its neck. I yell out through chokes, "Avada Kedavra!"  
  
The green flash appears, and the invisible hand on my neck loosens. "It's finally over!" I shout. Fawkes sits on my shoulder whistling happily. I dance around a bit, but then…  
  
"Muahahahahahahahahaha!"  
  
"What the…"  
  
The smoke clears and what I see causes me to fall to the ground as dead. Draco Malfoy surely lies dead on the ground, but Voldemort remains standing.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
This article was written by Mr. Harry J. Potter one year and fifty- four days ago. This only proves that Voldemort can not be killed. However, he is in Azkaban, for as soon as Harry came out of shock from seeing Voldemort alive after he used the Killing curse on him, he used the Memory charm on Voldemort and turned them in.  
  
Draco Malfoy was indeed a follower of Voldemort and the only one actually saddened by his death is his wife, Pansy Malfoy. She went to court and demanded a sentence in Azkaban for Mr. Potter. After her court appearance, Mr. Potter got a sentence of only one month, and Mrs. Malfoy was never seen again. We suspect she might've joined Voldemort herself.  
  
Report prepared by: Rebecca McDove 


End file.
